


An Unkonventional Kure

by FauxFidele



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Hannibal AU, Hannibal hates condiments, Hannibal is a Diva, Hannibal is kind of creepy, Hannibal likes Reality TV, Hannigram - Freeform, I Don't Even Know, I probably need help, M/M, Really weird AU that sort of turned cute, Why Did I Write This?, Will is adorable, You should actually judge me, crackfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-03 22:26:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5309336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FauxFidele/pseuds/FauxFidele
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Hannibal tries an unconventional method to treat an undisclosed medical affliction. To alleviate the stress of dealing with this condition, he turns to his favorite guilty pleasure, but Will is on to him and proves Hannibal is not as sneaky as he thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Unkonventional Kure

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to @Jodi_WanKenobi @ElenaGabrielaC @ProfessorBedlam and @Tea_Spill for this inspiring list :) 
> 
>  
> 
> 68\. AU Hannibal can’t help keeping up the kardashians 
> 
> 182\. AU Hannibal uses mustard as hand cream 
> 
>  
> 
> By some strange universal force, these two AU's ended up in one drabble (megadrabble?) I'm somehow incredibly sorry and not actually sorry at all. 
> 
> I own nothing, all of these glorious characters and TV shows belong to someone else. Please don't sue me.

He sighed as he looked to his hands and noticed the patchy, flakes of skin that formed over his knuckles. Hannibal had suffered from psoriasis for years. His careful regimen of vitamins and lotions worked well enough to contain any flare-ups, and apart from his physicians, no one had really known about his condition.

Recently, however, the change in temperature had caused his skin to dry and become quite inflamed, signifying the onset of a psoriatic episode.

Already half past six on a Friday evening, he realized that he couldn’t get a prescription called in until Monday morning. He hated waiting. He briefly considered going to an urgent care facility before admitting to himself that he was being dramatic. His logic told him it was nothing to be embarrassed by, but he hated having a weakness that was glaringly visible to everyone around him. _Just wear some damn glove_ s, he mused internally.

After much fussing and pacing, Hannibal decided to attempt some relaxation by way of watching television instead of continuing to obsess over the incessant itching of his hands. Will’s last class was over at 9:30 each evening, which gave him the exact 30-minute opening needed to catch up on _Keeping up with the Kardashians_.

It felt _so wrong_ \- and maybe that’s why he liked it. By all accounts he should despise everything about the show — and he did, to be fair — but he also delighted in watching this particular group of obscene humans interact with one another. It was like watching an elaborate socio-psychological experiment seeking to clarify the principles of Darwinism.

How can one continue to exist when they seem to encompass none of the skills necessary to thrive? How is it that a group of individuals possessing no discernible aptitude for _anything_ — continue to not just survive, but flourish, in a society where even the least fortunate of citizens have access to immeasurable knowledge in the palm of their hand (via smartphone)?

S _imply fascinating_ , he thought.

During this episode, coincidentally, Khloe happened to be suffering from a debilitating skin rash. Hannibal scoffed at the irony (and definitely NOT at Khole’s sarcastic comment to Kim about her pampered existence. Although, he had to admit, there were times when he caught himself chuckling at the sardonic ramblings of the prep-school-chic-non-husband, Scott. At least there was one character on the show Hannibal could rely on to provide some acerbic commentary on the family’s absurdity.)

The moment that Khloe’s homeopathic practitioner recommended a “mustard cleanse”, a light-bulb of sorts lit up in Hannibal’s mind palace. He remembered a doctor in his youth had sworn upon his life that mustard had healed his mother of psoriatic arthritis. Upon discovering the memory, Hannibal hastened himself to the refrigerator. He was delighted to find a mostly-full bottle of spicy mustard that Will had served once with cured meats at a small dinner party (much to Hannibal's revulsion).

He snickered to himself, feeling grateful for Will's occasional lack of refinement.

He slathered the mustard-paste on his hands and allowed it to marinate for the remainder of the show. How watching a reality program could feel so indulgently sinful was beyond him. All he knew was that he looked forward to this small pleasure each time Will taught his late class.

As the show neared its end, he rinsed the residue off his hands and cleared his viewing history, hoping that Will would not suspect either of the illicit activities. As if on schedule, Will walked in at 10:02pm and greeted him with an affectionate kiss to his cheek.

“Long day,” Will said with a sigh. “Going to lay down, if you want to join me,” he said with an enticing smile.

Hannibal returned the smile and nodded. “I’d like nothing more,” he replied.

Still fully-clothed, Will sunk into their bed for only an instance before Hannibal crawled in beside him. Will smiled as he watched Hannibal slowly move towards him, inching closer using his hand as a guide. Hannibal ventured underneath Will’s button-down shirt and cupped around his narrow hips, squeezing at the curve, and pulled himself on top of him. He lowered his head and pressed their lips together in a gentle kiss.

Hannibal continued to lead his hand further, following the muscles along Will’s back. His lips grazed the stubble along Will’s chin, but he suddenly felt the body beneath him grow tense and he could smell the shift in his mood.

“What’s wrong?” Hannibal asked, suddenly more doctor than lover.

Will’s brows furrowed in agitation, but Hannibal could sense he was feeling _discomfort_. He lifted himself to a sitting position and pushed back his shirt, searching over his abdomen intently.

“My skin feels hot,” Will complained, emotion escalating in his voice. “It’s itchy,” he mumbled as he started to paw at the skin around his mid-section.

Lifting the tails of his shirt, Hannibal swatted Will’s hands away to take a better look. Will’s skin was indeed reddening and a rash appeared to be spreading around his perfectly angular hips — exactly where Hannibal had been touching him.

“Allergic reaction, it appears,” Hannibal said casually.

Will frowned and let out a disapproving groan. “I’m not even allergic to anything!” he snapped, pausing to add, “I mean, except mustard. Which you hate. Rules that out.”

Hannibal stared blankly at Will. “You ate mustard at our dinner party the other night,” he objected.

Irritation washed over Will’s face as he stared at his partner in partial disbelief. “I _bought_ mustard — for the party — I didn’t eat it … _obviously,_ ” he quipped. “Are you the condiment police now?”

“No …” he stated, leaving part of his answer unspoken.

“What? Oh god, what is it?” Will asked, almost frantic.

“Calm down, Will,” Hannibal answered impatiently, reaching out to subdue Will’s flailing hands before stopping himself mid-motion — realizing now that the touch of his hands had a malignant effect.

Will’s eyes were wide with confusion and dread as he processed Hannibal’s halted touch. “Um, Hannibal,” he said, slowly, “What …. is on your hands?” He winced after asking the question, as if he was afraid to hear the answer.

Hannibal sighed, looking embarrassed. “I …” he stopped.

“Just say it!” Will demanded in a cracked voice, still clawing at the red patches on his skin.

A dramatic pause preceded Hannibal’s words. “I have … psoriasis,” he admitted with a gulp, looking away, unable to face Will.

Will looked dumbfounded. “Okay ….” he started, not entirely sure how to respond. “And…?”

Shifting nervously, Hannibal moved from the bed and took a standing position so he could face away from Will. “And mustard has anti-inflammatory properties.”

“So … you have been dousing yourself in mustard?” Will exclaimed, also rising to his feet, trying to connect the pieces of this nonsensical puzzle. "To alleviate your ... _psoriasis_ ," he stated, enunciating each word clearly as if convincing himself of his words.

Hannibal turned to Will briefly and looked away. His lack of response was all the confirmation needed. Will stood, mouth agape, searching internally for the appropriate response.

An uneasy laugh choked out of Will and Hannibal jerked his head around to give will a stern look of disapproval.

That was the only motivation needed for Will to break into a fit of stifled laughter, at first attempting to subdue it and then letting it out freely. Hannibal’s irritation only exacerbated Will’s amusement and his giggling began to choke him as he tried to calm himself.

“Jesus Christ you are so weird,” Will mused, shaking his head and still in disbelief.

Hannibal’s mouth formed a stern line as he glared at Will. “Funny is it?” he chided.

“Funny that a grown man is embarrassed to admit he has psoriasis?” Will asked with a grin, before answering his own question, “yes.”

Hannibal rolled his eyes.

“Now, what’s _really_ funny,” Will stated, beginning to chuckle again at his own thoughts, “is a grown man — of considerable class — watching _The Kardashians_ every night that they think their significant other is is teaching.”

The devilish smile that painted Will’s face was beaming with affection, but Hannibal went cold. His face drained of its color and no words came to counter the accusation, because, of course it was true.

Will stepped towards Hannibal, shifting on his toes to plant a kiss on his lover’s cheek, still grinning ear to ear. Hannibal frowned and pulled away, embellishing his annoyance.

“It’s a fifteen-minute walk, Hannibal. I’ve just been waiting outside to be polite.” Will chuckled once more. “I mean, if you want, we can watch it together,” Will offered, gentle and (mostly) sincere.

Hannibal scoffed and narrowed his eyes at Will, who shrugged innocently at his partner.

“Why not?” Will offered enthusiastically, before pausing again to scratch at his inflamed abdomen. “Get me some allergy medicine and I’ll watch all _The Kardashians_ you want,” he said, relying on Hannibal’s abundant hubris to keep him from obliging.

He pursed his lips as he deliberated. “ _Fine_ ,” he replied, to Will’s surprise.

Hannibal retrieved the allergy medicine from his first-aid kit and instructed Will on the dosage while he hurried off to take a shower. Once he was dressed, he returned to meet Will on the couch, looking a little drowsy but much calmer than before.

“Ready to, um, ‘Keep up with the Kardashians’?” he asked as he bit down on his lip to stifle a giggle, attempting to seem supportive.

Hannibal laughed, embarrassed but content, and took Will’s hand into his own and squeezed tightly.

“ _Ready_ ,” he replied, blushing, and smiling like a fiend.


End file.
